Many Meetings
by SniperCT
Summary: Many Meetings is a series of short to medium length stories exploring alternate ways that Lara and Sam meet. They range from sad to silly, outlandish to subtle. Most of these will be one-shots, though some realities may end up explored more than once. They'll span just about every genre.
1. Haunted

I can't tell you what it is exactly that attracts me to this house. Maybe it's the gorgeous view of the river and the ocean, or maybe it's the lines and the facade that gives the building a unique victorian charm. I just know that I fall in love with it the moment I step foot inside, and part with the money willingly once inspectors assure me it's safe.

Though if I wanted to be honest I would have bought it anyway and had whatever repairs necessary done.

My parents left me a lot of money, and I had even more once I'd sold the family mansion. This is to be my fresh start, the place for me to come into my own, as it were. It's close enough to Oxford for me to easily commute back and forth for my position there.

Even though there's hardly any furniture, I make camp in front of the fireplace that first night. For reasons I can't quite understand, I don't feel lonely. This place is empty, just waiting to be filled, but as I fall asleep I feel a warm presence envelope me.

In the morning the fire has gone out and there's a crick in my back. I've dreamed, but I can't grasp onto what it was about, only that it was very pleasant. I reluctantly leave my new home to get to work. By the time I come home, the movers should be done.

Then I get to start the long, arduous process of putting everything in it's place.

I tackle the library that weekend. I have so many books that it takes me six hours just to get everything in place and in order. The room is cozy, with a large cushiony chair in one corner for reading, next to a table for my tea. I'm glad for the chair, because I have to collapse into it as every muscle in my legs and back is protesting at the exertion. As I drift off, I feel something brush my hair back.

The next week is hectic as I prepare for a month-long expedition. We're joining a dig in Jordan and I'm incredibly anxious about it, as it's my first time on site since I was a little girl nipping at my father's heels. As I wait for the cab to take me to the airport, I feel something whispy and soft at the back of my neck. There's no one there, but I feel an aching loneliness open up inside my chest. I don't know where it came from, or how to fill it. Something is _missing_. I don't have time to think about that mystery, because there's the cap.

The dig is hot, and dirty. I'm constantly soaked in sweat and all my muscles are solid pain, but I love every minute of it. It's what I'm born to do and even the littlest discoveries feel like gigantic ones. I don't sleep as well as I should. That missing piece still bothers me and so I bury myself in my work. Ten, fifteen hour days and exhausting nights but I push through until the end.

I'm happy to be home though. After a month in the field I can sleep in a real bed, take a real shower or a real bath. That sounds so perfect that I end up falling asleep in the tub. Warm fingers caress down my cheek and over my collarbone and I jerk awake. A figure is sitting on the edge of the tub. She's a woman with raven-black hair and tanned skin. When I blink she's gone.

I ease myself up out of the tub and wrap a towel around my body. A thorough inspection of the house discovers nothing. I switch to a robe and sit down on my bed.

"Hello? I'm not afraid. I'm curious." _Oh lovely, Lara. You sound like a loon._ There's no answer. I lay down and stare at the ceiling. There's a rational explanation for that. I just spent a month in the desert with a bunch of sweaty men and clearly I need companionship. They were all good people but not the kind of company I'd like to bring home.

I'm painfully shy when it comes to dating, though. I'm just more at home surrounded by books and artifacts than I am in someone's bed. And if I start seeing ghosts then I'm never getting a date again.

It's a few days later that I actually have a chance to go out with someone, when one of my grad students ambushes me after class. I really don't get the chance to say no and staring into sapphire blue eyes I find I don't want to. So I take Amanda out to dinner and we spend a lot of time talking shop. She's signed onto a trip to Peru and of course I have to encourage her. I'd go myself but I have prior commitments.

I think it's gone well. She follows me to my door and I find myself asking if she wants a night cap. The night cap leads to Amanda straddling me, her hands pushing my shirt open and her teeth leaving a trail of marks down my throat.

A loud crash startles us. A lamp has fallen over and I lean my head back on the couch. "Shit, I think I just lost a year."

Amanda slips out of my lap and holds out her hands. "Clean it up later, I'm not done with you yet."

The blonde is really exciting. I haven't felt like this in a long time so I let her pull me to my feet. Then I'm the one leading her, up the stairs and into my bedroom. We've barely made it to the bed when the door slams.

"What the fuck?" Amanda looks back at the door, but I turn her face back to mine.

"It's probably just pressure equalizing in the house." She starts to say something else but I kiss her before she can. I don't want to talk any more. We fall onto the bed, scrambling to peel each others' clothing off. Mine is harder than hers but she's clever and I'm sure she can figure it out.

Sitting up, Amanda looks around. "Did you hear that?"

"It's just the house settling."

"I don't know, Lara, I'm sensitive to this stuff..." We both jump this time when one of my bookshelves teeters over and smashes onto the floor. A book shoots out from the new pile as though someone is throating it and catches Amanda on the arm. She rolls off the bed as another one hits her in the head. "Fuck! Fuck this!"

I don't know what's happening. Books are flying and my date is running out of the room. The bedroom door slams behind her and locks. It's like something out of a scary movie, and my mind can't quite handle the implications. I hold up my hands as if trying to appease whatever this is. "Okay, you're angry. I understand that. But some of those books are very valuable and it's rather rude to throw them at innocent people."

The remains of the bookshelf rattle. If I look closely I can see the faint outline of a person. It gets closer, before I can feel that faint whispy touch. Fingers move up my arms, and others trace a scar on my collarbone from lacross in Uni.

I feel tears in my eyes. I'm alone in my room with just my knickers on and talking to thin air, yet it feels like my heart is breaking. "...who are you?"

I'm pushed back onto the bed, suddenly, as the light flicks out. In the dim glow through the window the figure stands out more. The woman is young, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, and Asian. Her dark hair looks silky smooth but even though she can touch me, I can't touch her. I'm already worked up from Amanda and now I'm frustrated. "I paid for this house fairly and I'm a grown woman, I can bring home anyone I wish."

That ache in my chest returns a thousandfold when ghostly lips touch mine. I gasp into the touch, even though there's no one there to touch me. This is _completely_ mad. Ghosts don't exist and they don't make me want to _cry_.

My pulse quickens as those hands move down over my body. They know me intricately and in ways no one else has ever understood. I arch into her touch, I hunger for it and I even beg near the end. A name passes my lips, one I shouldn't know and yet do. Sam. "_Sam_..."

I'm not alone as I drift off to sleep. I know tomorrow I'm going to research this history of this house. Discover who this woman was in life. Her presence is warm and comforting next to me. In my dreams, my mouth finds hers, my hands follow a rhythm I seem to know by instinct as I listen to my name called in an angel's voice.

I wake up alone, to a cold chill in the air. The presence is gone and with her a piece of my soul. In one of Plato's stories, he recounted a myth in which all humans were originally created with two faces, four arms and four legs. Zeus, fearing their power, split them in two. Forever would these two beings wander in search of their missing half, and when they found each other they would know unspeakable joy.

My other half is gone before I even got to know she existed. Joy and heartbreak in the same night. Numb, I pick up the books, and start to read through anything I can find about death, ghosts and reincarnation. I have so many questions. Who she was and what happened to her are at the front of my mind. Yet I also have a million other questions. What other supernatural events could possibly be real if a ghost could break my heart?

But I won't spend my life in mourning. There's so much _unknown_ out there that I realize I can't spend my life in a classroom or behind a desk. It was dirty, tiring work but I _belong_ out there.

"Thank you," I say. "I'll see you some day and I'll have so many stories to tell."

And maybe, just maybe, I feel her smile at me.


	2. Countdown

**AN:This is based on a story concept I saw on tumblr, where you have a counter on your wrist. When it reaches 00:00 you meet your soul mate.**

**Samantha Nishimura is a few days from her counter reaching zero when a storm crashes her plane onto a lost Japanese island...**

* * *

This clock on my wrist has told me how old I'd be when I meet them since the day I was born. A timer that tells me twenty-two years, six months, thirteen days, fifteen hours, thirty-three minutes and fifteen seconds later I'd meet the man or woman that is my soul mate. I'm not sure if it's a curse or not. Can you imagine the poor bastard who has to wait until they're eighty? Or the woman who's counter resets to zero. And what if someone gets like reincarnated or something?

You're twenty and then the counter starts all over and then things get creepy until they're eighteen. There was a story on the news a few years back like that. Some old grandpa met a toddler. It wasn't gross or anything, it's probably like having an extra grandparent because love is funny that way. But then some day and soon he's gonna kick the bucket and that poor kid is going to be stuck at zero for maybe the rest of her life.

Some of the guess work is gone. Sure I still date and screw around but it's kind of like practice. I just hope it's someone I can love. I've spent my life wondering what they'd be like. Would they like film? Are they nice? God what if I end up with someone really terrible? You hear all these horror stories. And yeah I don't _have_ to be with them but it hurts to think that a part of me could be in a bad person. So I just kind of imagine some kind of beefcake or bombshell who's like...really smart. I like brains. Not when it's just for fun but when it's someone I might spend my life with? I really want someone smarter than me. And they have to be funny. I won't accept someone without a sense of humor.

What the timer doesn't tell you is where or how you'll meet this person. It sure as fuck isn't going to tell you that a storm will knock your airplane out of the sky and crash you into an island of lunatics. Most of the passengers get shot up before we have a chance to even _breathe_. Then there were all these smelly rough men pawing at us. I watched some of the men survivors get taken away to this place they called the "Pit." If what the Solarii say is true, the ones who are dead are the lucky ones.

There are six women. Or were. These psychos kept talking about Queen Himiko. When I was a kid, my grandpa used to tell me stories about my ancestors. I listened to them because he was the only member of my family who ever gave a damn about me. So I knew all about Himiko. A least I thought I did. I was never told about her soul passing into the body of another. One by one the women with me are burned alive in some kind of twisted ritual. I never wanted to know what burning flesh smelled like and now I'll _never_ forget it. But it's better than the screaming.

I'm the last one on the pyre. My wrist says forty-seven seconds. Somewhere in this world someone's counter is going to reset to zero. They'll never get to meet me. I'll never get to film their _every_ breathing moment. I'd always imagined I'd have my camera out when we'd find each other. So we could relive it when we're older. I'd planned on it. I have the thing with me everywhere I go. It got lost in the chaos between the plane crash and the attack.

Maybe it's better this way. It could have been one of these men. It could have been _Mathias_. I'd rather be dead than it be one of them. I count in my head now. It keeps me distracted from what's about to come.

The man with the torch approaches me while Mathias prattles on about something. I try to stop the panic but I'm at ten seconds and he's almost there and I'm going to _die_. I lose count when an arrow pierces his neck. The man goes down and when I look up again there's this _woman_. She's covered in blood and scars and open wounds. Her eyes are hard. They're dead and lost and _angry_ but when they meet mine it's like a jolt of lightning goes through me. I don't know what she's been through, where she came from or why she's here. There's so much emotion in her eyes it's hard to know where to even begin but I think she's been suffering. Her eyes light up and each heartbeat feels like hours. It's almost like she recognizes me.

Another man takes an arrow to the chest as she snaps out of it, but then she's tackled. I struggle against my bonds, screaming around the gag in my mouth as they mercilessly beat her. I don't even know her _name_ but I feel each impact like it's on my own body. It's a horrible wet and violent sound and it reverberates throughout the caverns.

Mathias stops it before they kill her and for the first and only time I'm grateful to the fucker. He compares her to an animal, but she glares at him in defiance and she's so hot I can't stand it. He picks up the torch. Maybe someone else would think it's crueler to see her face moments before the end, but not me. This beautiful, amazing woman came out of nowhere to try to save me. She doesn't know me. I doubt she realized I was her person until she saw me.

"I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry." She doesn't have to say what for. It's in her voice. _Sorry this is how we met. Sorry I failed you. Sorry I'll never know your name._ "Look at me."

I meet her eyes for the second time as the torch lands at my feet. I try not to panic, but I can't respond, not with my voice. I can with my eyes. I don't know what I'm even feeling right now. Gratitude and fear and I'm really pissed off, too. Mostly scared. The heat rises up with the smoke and my calm breaks. Then the wind kicks up and I black out as a voice screams in my head.

I'm not a roasted Nishimura when I come to. I'm in some kind of room, and my head is pounding. They've dressed me in a white robe and painted symbols on my arms and face. I shudder at the thought of their hands on me and wish I could scrub my skin off.

Outside, my guards are talking about an Outsider. About this girl who's killing them left and right. They sound so fucking _terrified_ that it makes me smile. That 'girl' is kicking their asses, and she's going to come for me.

I nearly fall over when the door swings open. I half-expect it to be that girl, but it's Mathias. It's time, he tells me. I feel this ball of terror in the pit of my stomach, like ice has taken over. This Sun Queen has chosen me to be her vessel. The closer we get to the top of the mountain the less I question it. _Malice_ oozes off of the pedestal where Himiko sits. I wonder if she knows we're related. I wonder what'll happen to my soul when she invades me.

I don't have to wait long to find out. It's sudden and painful, like a thousand needles poking at my brain. Within seconds it feels like my chest is being ripped open and _something_ is crawling inside me. I fight it, struggling against the monster. It _hurts_ so much and feels like I'm drowning.

When I hear gunshots and a woman's voice I dig my heels in. Not literally. My body has no strength left. But mentally and emotionally I brace myself. Everytime Himiko pushes in I push right back. It frustrates her. We both know I'm only delaying the inevitable.

The contact breaks like a rubber band snapping. I'm back in my own head and the Queen is _gone_. Exhausted tears prick at my eyes as I open them again. There's a fuzzy face and I try adjust the focus. She's beautiful. From the way her cheeks curve to how full her lips are. Dry and cracked but the most amazing lips I've ever seen. They press against my cheek and I pat her face.

"You saved me. Somehow...I knew you would." It's obvious and kind of stupid of me but I can't really think straight right now. She smiles, and has this super adorable little laugh. The skies are clearing now and bathing us in light. If I wasn't already falling hard the way she shines seals my fate.

Taking my wrist she places hers next to it. The timers blink zeros in sync to each other and hot tears streak down my face. She brushes at them as if she's afraid of the blood on her fingers. "I'm Lara. Lara Croft."

"Sam," I tell her, catching her fingers and kissing them. "I'm Sam."


	3. Call Center

**(AN: Lara is working at a call center to pay her way through Uni. Sam is sat down to shadow her and listen to her calls.)**

* * *

Some days are easier than others. When the people on the other end of the line are friendly and actually listen and don't scream my ear off when I've got no control over the situation. I don't want to be here any more than they want to be calling me.

Today is definitely not one of those easier days. Today is one of those horrible days where everything goes wrong and our tools are down. When there's back to back calls so I have to put my homework aside. I'd much rather be reading about ancient chinese culture than telling someone that their service is shut off because they forgot to pay us. It's surprising how many people take affront to that. Maybe I should find another job to help get through Uni, but there aren't too many places I can study at work.

To make my day worse they're bringing up the training class to listen in on our calls. I can't stand someone peering over my shoulder and half the time it's some creepy man who'd rather stare at my chest than look at the computer screen.

My patience is pretty frayed when John leads the collection of wide-eyed new hires through the center. It's actually a pretty diverse bunch this go-round, which is refreshing. He sits a woman next to me while I'm in the middle of a call. I place the man on hold and hook her headset into mine. "I'm Lara, nice to meet you."

"Sam," she says. I look up into brown eyes and a gorgeous smile.

"They picked a fun day for you lot," I tell her. "Most of my calls have been complicated."

The woman grins, and her tone is nervous. "That's okay, they might as well throw us right into the fire, right?"

"John likes to do that, he's a cruel, cruel man." He hears me and gives me a thumbs up as I bring the caller back off of mute.

As expected, he continues his rant right where he left off. "And what is with this charge. Fifteen cents? Fifteen cents for what?"

"Mathias-"

He interrupts me, "I do not agree with this, you people are ripping me off. Fifteen cents here, fifteen cents there, and what is this fifty-nine ninety-nine?"

"I'm terribly sorry. Let me look that one up for you." Putting him on mute, I'm only partially successful in biting back a curse. My shadow giggles at me and I shoot her a look, but my mood improves almost instantly. "I've been dealing with this man for forty minutes. It's one thing after another."

"He sounds like a total dickwad."

"That's because he is." I take him back off mute as I pull up his orders. Oh dear god. I keep a straight face as I reply, "That's a pay-per-view order for _Big Meat Teen Addiction 5_."

Sam makes a choked sound behind me and I suck my lips in to keep myself from laughing. Mathias is silent for a moment. "And this charge for twenty-five ninety nine?"

"_MILF Man-eaters Six._" If he keeps making me list off these titles I'm going to just die. My face is already bright red and it sounds like Sam is going to choke to death.

"And this last one? Fifteen ninety-nine?"

In a way it's the worst one. I'm certain he's just doing this to hear me say them so I put on that famous stiff upper lip and say as dryly as I can, "_Dirty Lesbo Daughters_."

"Oh. Well. I didn't order these."

"I show you did," I tell him, and even read off what time he ordered them. "If there's someone else in your household then you may have to take it up with them."

"I shall," He says, and hangs up. I sag back into my chair and cover my face with my hands as Sam muffles howling laughter into her arm.

Blindly, I put myself into the break code. "I need a cigarette and I don't even smoke."

"Oh my god." She beats a hand against her chest and gasps. "Oh my god I think I love this job! And I've seen that last one."

"It's not _that_ funny!" My cheeks start burning up again and I give her a startled look. Sam has this twinkle in her eyes. Was that a hint?

"It so is, and it sounded kind of hot. What a creep." She gets up and I turn to lock my screen and hide my face. I don't want to think about Mathias, but Sam thinks my voice is hot? I could live with that.

We walk together towards the break room and Sam asks me, "So you're working through college?" She must have seen my books.

"Yes. I'm going to go into archaeology."

"This is about as far from that as you can get! I'm going to a film school. I don't actually have to work except my dad is making me if I want to keep having him cover tuition." She makes a face, wrinkling her nose up. I'm a little irritated that she's getting a free ride, but I don't say anything. It's not my place to judge and for the oddest reason I really like her.

"Not many people here are in it for the career. After awhile you just want to stab your eyes out."

"Just a stepping stone onto bigger and better things, right?" She grins and puts her arms around my shoulders. I'm not exactly the most touchy person around so I don't know how to handle this.

Opening my mouth to tell her I don't want to be touched, I say instead, "Do you have plans after work?"

Sam lights up and I can't push her away now. "Nope! Wanna hang out? We could get some Chinese and maybe go out. Do you dance?"

"Dancing?" What kind of dancing is she even talking about? "I don't really have much time to go out like that."

"Oh my god, Lara. We're going to have so much fun tonight!"

I wonder what I've gotten myself into, but I don't think I really mind. My idea of fun is boring to most people, but I've spent so much of my life wrapped in my own little world that maybe sticking my neck out is worth a shot. "If you insist, Sam."


	4. Love Letters

_**(Sam once hooked up with a brunette at a party, but never got her name. A few months later she sees her face all over the news as the woman who discovered Atlantis, and she sends an email to Lara Croft.)**_

_**(AN: Written as part of a prompt for femslashdaily's (on tumblr) femslash takeover 2014!)**_

* * *

I met this hot brunette at a party once. Amazing rack and an ass to die for and her _accent_. Oh my god. I was hooked immediately. She was really nice, too. Nervous. Adorable and sexy at the same time. I still think about her sometimes. I never got her name, just made off with a cute pair of tighty whities.

I don't usually dwell on hookups, but I always kind of thought she was someone special. I still fantasize about her, and the way she held me as we came down off our highs. She just felt like she'd be some one special. And my gut proves right when her name gets splashed all over the tv.

Lara Croft. The discoverer of motherfucking _Atlantis_. And I _tapped_ that! I'm in the studio listening to some of the guys talk about her and it's kinda gross. I want to get all smug and in their faces about it, but I don't. Instead I google her. I find her email address, it looks like a university one, and I stare at the blank email for a full minute before I start typing.

_Hey! I don't know if you remember me, but we met at a party a few months ago. I just saw you on tv, that's really amazing! You can ignore this if you want. It's maybe a little creepy-stalkery but I really had a good time and I've always been disappointed I never got your name. I'm Samantha Nishimura but you can call me Sam. I know you're probably really busy, I mean you just changed the face of your profession forever, so no rush in responding!_

Not exactly the most professional email I've ever written but I'm not trying to arrange a business relationship. I take a breath and hit send, then lock my machine and go on a Starbucks run.  
I don't get back to my computer for a couple of hours. After the coffee run there's a mild emergency on one set, and then I have a meeting with my boss about one of my proposals. I end up heading straight home, making myself some mac and cheese and dragging my cat into my lap against his will. Finally, I check my mail. To my total delight I've got a message!

_How could I forget you? I was so nervous the next morning, I didn't know how I was supposed to act or react, and then it was too late to get your number. I'm glad you emailed me. All this coverage and response is very overwhelming and I needed something else to think about. I'd like to say it's not a big deal, but it really is._

_Pardon my being stalkery too, but I checked out some of your work. You're really good with a camera. That shoot you did in the Painted Desert really stands out. You've got a way with the camera that's impressive._

_Lara Croft_

Okay so I'm getting the impression I was her first, which is both awesome and awesome. She couldn't do much better than me for her first time and I so totally made an impression. Feeling a bit like a schoolgirl with a crush I try to reply like a normal human being. I mean she just practically gushed about my camera work and if I wasn't already dying to talk to her more that just kind of seals the deal.

_Thanks! I guess I deserve you googling me, since I was creepy-stalker first. I think you might have seen me on a bad day though. I usually look a lot better than that but I was fighting a cold at the time. If you ever need a camera person I'm up for adventure! I'm not fishing for a job or anything. I just want to put that out there because you're doing some amazing things and I'd be an idiot to not want in on that. It'd be a good excuse to see you again, too. Maybe we could get drinks._

It's more subtle than I'm used to, but 'I want you to pin me to a wall and fuck me stupid' would probably send her running. So I send it and then decide to crawl into bed. Except I can't sleep. I keep checking my phone for a response from her, and googling pictures of her. She's even more gorgeous than I remember. It looks like she has a new scar on the bridge of her nose and it's so fucking sexy.

"Oh god, hold it together Sam. If you start doodling her name or something…" My phone dings and I eagerly switch to my mail app. Spam! I drop my phone on my end table and roll over, covering my head with my pillow.

There's no message the next day, either, and I start to wonder if I scared her off. It's the start of the weekend and I stay out really late celebrating the completion of our shoot. I need to seriously get laid and I go home with this perky blonde. Her body is the wrong shape and her hair the wrong color but she gets Lara out of my head for a few hours and I really need that.  
I've got an email waiting for me when I drag myself back to my apartment.

_I think that I could definitely use your talent, but I've already got someone lined up for my next dig and I can't break the contract. After that, if you're still free, I'd like to discuss it. We can talk over those drinks you mentioned. Maybe you could give me my knickers back. _

My face hurts. I'm grinning that widely. She seems a little stiff but can warm up a little if given the chance, I think. I like that. I really like that. My response is quick, _Good luck on your expedition, sweetie ;)_ and it's only after I send it that I start to freak out that she'd take 'sweetie' the wrong way. Or maybe the right way.

Over the next couple of weeks we keep catching each other in this email exchange. We both get less formal, and I get comfortable enough to joke a little, and flirt a little more heavily. She even sends me a long rambling email about trying to deal with paparazzi and her newfound fame. But I know she's getting ready for a dig and I finally get the email I dread.

_Samantha, I'm going to be out of cellular range pretty soon. Where I'm going is pretty dangerous and while I like my odds anything can happen. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about you after that party. You were the first person I ever opened myself up to like that and I wished I'd been able to find you sooner. I don't have many friends and I like to think you're one of those, even if we've only ever met face to face that one time. _

I wish I'd given her my phone number now. I wish I'd shared more of myself to her. A week goes by, then two. I bury myself in work and even try another booty call but I can't go through with it. I want Lara. But she's somewhere in Brazil and it's going to be a month before I can talk to her again.

Along with some bills and some clothing I'd mail ordered I get a letter. There's no return address, just Lara's name. I open it with a nail and quickly unfold it. There are water stains and one corner looks like what might be blood. I mean, ew, but Lara's handwriting is precise and neat and my squick turns to worry.

_I had a lot of time to think this past week. The things I've seen, the things I've done, what's happened to me, all of it is madness inducing. I can't go into detail, not yet, but the thought of seeing you was one of the things that kept me going. It's stupid to feel this way. We've barely spoken and one night together doesn't count for anything, but part of me wishes you were here. It's a selfish thing, because I don't want to see you get hurt, but I've seen some wonders that I wish I could have shared with you. _

The back of the paper is a sketch of some kind of building. It's really cool looking, but her letter ended abruptly. I know she won't get it for awhile, but I open my computer and send her an email.

_This is my number, call me as soon as you get this email. If you want to see me or hear me or anything you can. Any time, day or night, please just call me. Because it's not stupid. I can't stop thinking about you. Imagining your touch and your voice and the look on your face when I'm touching you. I wish I was there too because adventuring with you sounds like the most awesome thing. Danger or not. Don't leave me behind, Lara. We only get one life and I want to live it. Give me a chance._

Okay that's a little strong. I'm falling in love with her. Maybe I've been in love ever since that party, but she doesn't need to hear that. I can't sleep that night. I can't sleep the next night. I nearly make myself sick out of worry about Lara Croft and whatever crazed situation she's found herself in.

I'm so relieved when I get her next letter. Except it's blank. I'm standing there holding a blank piece of paper. Did she use invisible ink? Was this a fucking _joke?_ I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a voice behind me. "I wanted to say it in person."

Turning, I see Lara standing on the walkway up to my door. She's wearing a black tank top that clings tightly to her body, and she has on new jeans and black boots. She's so beautiful and mysterious. There's a new scar on her shoulder, and her eyes are dangerous. The way she's looking at me sends my heart into my throat and turns my legs into rubber. Still, I manage to reply, "Yeah, what's that?"  
I didn't see her move, but I'm suddenly pinned to my door, Lara's lips on mine and I kiss her back with absolutely _no_ restraint. My breath comes in heavy gasps. "Good...good answer."

Lara's different. It's not a bad different. There's still this undercurrent of that shy, nervous girl, but she's been hardened, forged like steel and it shows. She picks me up and throws me over her shoulder and it's night by the time we come up for air. In the moonlight, the hardened edges have smoothed over, and Lara studies me with a vulnerability that makes my heart ache.

"You're not allowed to leave yet," I tell her, pulling her head against my shoulder. "I won't let you. I've got stuff I want to say and it's like..you just gave me a love letter, only it wasn't in words but how you touched me and I need time to… I want… I love you _too_, okay?"

The words kind of spilled out of me and now I don't know what to do. Lara peers up, then her hand slides into my hair, petting and stroking me. "I have a flight tomorrow morning."  
Yeah. I knew that was coming. Somehow I did but it doesn't break my heart any less. My jaw quivers and there's this terrible urge to cry.

"I've got two tickets. I want you to come with me. I love you, Sam."

Through tears, I nodded enthusiastically. "I just need to pack my camera." I can make do with everything else.

Lara's voice sounds thick, and her eyes glimmer with unshed tears. "It just feels like it wouldn't be a proper adventure without you."


	5. All Those Little Deaths Part 1

**_Lara is following in her father's footsteps. As a member of MI:6, she undertakes dangerous operations to secure the safety of the British People. Things become complicated when she encounters a counterpart from the CIA. This chapter is rated M. Based on a prompt by Cosmodicy._**

* * *

_Mission Summary_  
_Agent: "Amelia"_  
_Outcome: Success_

_At 0100 local time I boarded the cargo ship. The manifest stated electronics but upon closer inspection it was revealed they were carrying weapons destined for Europe. I encountered resistance but successfully scuttled the vessel with the aid of an asset calling herself 'Himiko'. Training indicates CIA and my recommendation is to confirm that._

My handler looks over the report, then at me and raises his eyebrows. "Is that all?"

"Yes sir," I reply. Winston was my father's handler as well, and rumour says he worked with my grandfather in SIS. He generally saw right through bullshit, but that report is the truth.

"Nothing else, Miss Croft?"

I shake my head. "Nothing of import."

"Very well." He stands, picking up my report and inclining his head towards me. "You're free for the evening, but remember you're due in Berlin tomorrow night."

MI6 hadn't been the only thing I'd followed my father into. His cover became mine, staying in the family as it were. It's a deep cover, a living cover. I've even been to school to make it more believable, but to be completely honest I love it. I genuinely enjoy both of my jobs. Dig in the dirt by day, and as for my night, well it's very exciting.

To get into this function requires that I dress like a lady. It's the kind of dress that usually makes me uncomfortable. Slinky and form fitting with shimmering fabric, there's a slit up my right leg and my breasts are all but falling out. I stash a bag outside with something more work appropriate, then resign myself to mingling.

First, I need to chat up the right people, and then I need to sneak into a secure office and secure a hack into their computer. I could play at being a bimbo, use my looks more than I already am, but with my cover I can actually show my intelligence. I just need to flirt a little and some of my targets spill _everything_. It's almost worth the groping.

I'm not expecting anyone when I return to my bag, but there's a woman peering around the opposite corner of a wall. I'd thought this place was secure. It's out of sight, with several tall walls and rows of hedges, perfect for preparing for espionage. I draw my pistol as she turns around. "Oh. It's you."

"Wow! I didn't expect to see you here." The Japanese woman smiles at me. It's charming and full of sass as Himiko finishes zipping up the front of her catsuit. She conveniently leaves it undone halfway, and the leather clings to her like a second skin. Every curve is visible and my hands start to itch. It's not helping that she's openly admiring me.

"Funny coincidence, that," I say, tone as dry as sawdust. I swat at her hand when she makes a move for my arse.

"Juicy targets spread fast, sweetie." Her hand trails down the front of my neck, and I grab her wrist.

"Hands to yourself. We might as well work together but what happened on that boat was a fluke, do you understand?" I'm not going to let her cut through my professionalism again. But she grins at my glaring and leans in against me. "...Shit." What control I have vanishes as I pin her to the wall, tugging her zipper down roughly and taking a handful of one of those breasts she'd been flaunting. Himiko wastes no time in returning the favor, kissing me enthusiastically as she pushes at the straps of my dress.

My hand slides down a toned stomach and into her catsuit. She whimpers in my ear, wrapping a leg around me and gasping as she pushes my dress off. The woman giggles, and it's the sweetest sound. "Oh come to mama…"

Her voice is racey, with a whine underneath it. I nudge her head back and kiss her neck, feeling a low throaty moan through her skin. I've always been good with detail. Locks, and ancient artifacts and Himiko is getting the benefits of all that practice. She digs her nails in and presses her thigh between my legs. "Don't we...things..mission to do?"

Pulling her earlobe into my mouth, I gasp into her ear. "If you're in such a hurry you really need to come already."

"Oh my god," Himiko laughs, bucking into my hand. "Say that again. Your voice is so fucking hot." She presses her leg harder against me, rubbing it and turns this into a contest. It's one I don't intend to lose. I purr the _dirtiest_ thing I can think of and Himiko comes completely undone. Her body shakes violently and she muffles herself by biting painfully into my shoulder.

I follow her right off that cliff when she does that. I could really spend hours mapping her body, but just like on the boat we don't have the time.

Still, we both need a few minutes to recover.

"Okay, so we're even now." I finally say, shivering as her finger traces the nasty scar on my stomach. Her eyes are questioning, but I only shake my head. "Long story." Our eyes remain locked for a long moment, before I reluctantly step back. I stuff my dress into the bag while she cleans up, and she stares at me the whole time I'm changing. I finish buttoning my shirt and try to read her expression.

"I'm sorry I'm not wearing something as impractical as that, but it was a wetsuit last time."

"No.. no It's okay, Amelia. You look like a real Jane Bond and it's really hot…"

"Mission, Remember?" The way she says Amelia makes me wish I could tell her my real name. It makes me want to know _her_ name, which is dangerous at best. I pull my coat on. It's long and black, lined with kevlar and filled with pockets. When I turn I see the other woman's throat bob as she looks at me. Now we're even for her in that damned catsuit, too. "How are you even a spy?"

"I'll tell you over dinner." She pulls out a gun and starts out along the wall, not giving me a chance to react to that.

My intel gave us a back entrance and after a few minutes searching we find an access panel. "You first," Himiko says, and I raise my eyebrow.

"You just want to stare at my arse."

"I could go first." All it takes is for her to start bending over and I stop her. The last thing I need is that in my face right now. I've already been so unprofessional. So I crawl in and the American follows me. Now that we're in possible danger she's all business, which is refreshing. The same switch turns on in my own head and we're ready for anything by the time we break into the office.

Well, anything but that.


	6. Are You Even Real?

**(Inspired by something on Tumblr. Lara pissed off the wrong crowd at her new high school and tries to keep her chin up in the face of insults and harassment, and Sam is the lead Cheerleader with a massive crush on the quiet British girl.)**

* * *

I was that 'weird British girl' almost as soon as I arrived. I spent too long in the library and ate by myself. I didn't even make any friends that first year, and after I accidentally ran into Natalie Wilson the popular kids started to make my life a living hell. The talking behind my back, the rumors and insults. I can't escape it. I try not to let them see me react no matter how much I want to hit someone. So I just tell myself to keep my spirits up, ignore them and get through this. I'm a Croft, after all.

Easier said than done, but at least after I tossed the quarterback through a window people stopped trying to bully me. His pride was so wounded he refused to admit it wasn't an accident. I guess he doesn't want people knowing a girl like me could take down a bloke like him. I was blissfully left alone after that. There were still rumors and talking, but if I ignore them, they ignore me.

Mostly, anyway. I still get looks in the hallway. Particularly from what I like to call the _alpha pack_. They're just about everything you ever imagined from a group of cheerleaders. Airheaded, condescending, and _mean_. Natalie used to be their leader and they could get snippy, but the power structure has changed. Natalie was expelled for drugs. Now they follow this Japanese girl named Samantha. I don't really see much of a difference except she's a little less of a slut.

She's really pretty though, but she's the enemy. Thoughts like that won't lead anywhere. I plot my path from class to class to avoid her and her pack, but no matter which way I take I always end up passing them by. There's usually some comment about my style of dress, or the way I wear my hair.

It's tiring, and depressing, and while I'm at school I can't do anything about it. But I rarely feel like going home right away. The house is empty with Roth always away. So depending on my day I either hide in the library or run on the track. I'm terrible at sports, but I can run and climb like a little monkey. I could try out for track, but after three years of 'lanky Lara' and other more creative insults I just don't have the heart for it anymore.

So the library is my sanctum. I can lose myself among all the books and papers for a few hours before I go home. Sighing, I crack open an Egyptology book.

"Hi." A pair of legs comes into view. Samantha's skirt is pulled up well short of dress code. I lift my eyes with some difficulty. Bared mid-drift (is that piercing really necessary?) and a too tight top. Her hair is dark and silky looking, falling to her shoulders and her eyes are these deep pools of mahogany. Her face is _perfect_. She can't possibly be talking to me so I look behind me, but I'm alone in here.

I look back up at her. She's leaned over, moving into my personal space. I'm forced to lean back before I get a face full of her chest. "Uhm. Hello?"

"Are you coming to tonight's game? First one of the season."

"Game? Oh right, that thing you call football." I scoot back in my chair, needing more space. It was getting hard to breathe. I've already learned the hard way once to not fancy a cheerleader I don't need to go through that again. Does she know? Is there someone waiting with a camera to embarrass me?

Her smile isn't fake. It's really hard to not let her mood infect my own as she bounces in front of me. The view down her shirt is _incredible_. "Yeah! You should come. Get some air, let the charge _energize_ you."

"I'm energized enough, thank you." I'm going to need a thousand cold showers at this rate.

She drops into my lap, and her finger trails in a little circle behind my ear. "_Please_…?"

Really, how can I say no to that? But watch me try. "I'm not into it, I'm sorry."

Her pout could bring just about the toughest person to her knees. And she keeps _wriggling_. "Are you busy after the game?"

Warily, I ask, "...why?"

"Because I'm going to be _starving_," she says, threading her arms around my shoulders. I've given up trying to squirm away from her.

"Are you always this touchy?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

I must have hesitated too long, because she grins at me and hugs me. "Aren't you afraid someone is going to misinterpret this?"

"That's their problem, not mine." Sam sits back and my hands brush her legs. I can feel my face burning and grip the seat of my chair. "Okay can you meet me at that Texmex place on West and 3rd? Seven o'clock."

"Sure," I reply, thinking I might have to stand her up. This has to be a trap, it _has_ to be.

"Great! It's a date, see you!" She kisses my cheek, and her lips are so warm and soft I don't process what she's said before she's flounced out of the library.

"Wait. Wait. What?!"

So I end up going to the game. Not to see the sport. It's not _real_ football and never will be. I'm pretty sure Roth would be disappointed if he found out. I wanted to see _Samantha_. It's stupid, I know it is. She's popular, I'm the nerd. And I don't get cheerleading at all, but I guess it's kind of nice to watch, and the game runs long so I get a little extra time to watch her without her noticing I'm there.

I should go home. But I don't. Instead I walk to the Texmex place and wait inside, fidgeting nervously and worrying at the pendant I found when I was a child. Either she's going to stand me up or she'll show up with her pack and humiliate me and I'm not sure which will hurt worse.

"Hi."

I look up. She's still in her uniform and up close it's a lot nicer. She's also alone, which I'm having trouble wrapping my brain around. "Hello."

"Can I sit?" She plops into the booth across from me without waiting for my answer. I should be annoyed. But I'm not. "I'm so glad you showed up! I kept think you weren't going to, and I mean I wouldn't blame you, this is probably really weird."

"I don't usually go out to eat," I say neutrally. I'm still paranoid someone is going to jump out with a camera.

"You should! Getting out can be fun. But I can totally get staying home. There are days I just don't want to leave the house because I look like crap and I feel like crap and I just want to laying around in footies and watch youtube."

"Like you could ever look terrible," I tell her, then bite my lip.

She doesn't seem to notice my accidental flirting. "Pfffff have you seen yourself in the mirror? You're such a hottie. I'm jealous, I wish I could get my hair to do that puffy bang thing."

Clearly, I've stepped into some kind of alternate reality. "Right…"

"Shit." She suddenly straightened. I turn my head and see a flock of cheerleaders and jocks heading towards the restaurant. I _knew_ it. Before I can react she's got my hand and is dragging me towards the ladies room.

Once safely inside she pulls me into a stall. "What are you doing? Don't want to be seen with me? I thought that was 'their' problem."

"No no, I just… don't want you to have to deal with them."

"Are you even real?" I ask her. I'm confused, and a little freaked out by all of this, but then Samantha is leaning up, and her lips are on mine. I'm drawn into the kiss mostly but not really against my will. Her tongue flicks at my lips, her fingers play with the hair on the back of my neck and after that I pull her against me. I'm going to get hurt, I know I am.

She lifts her legs and wraps them around my waist. I back into the toilet and that's when the bathroom door opens. I freeze, and Samantha stiffens too. I feel her lips on my throat, and try to remain silent while the cheerleaders on the other side of the door talk about some boy named Alex.

It feels like they're in here forever, and the whole time Sam is nuzzling and nipping at me. After they're gone, I set her down, my legs feeling like jelly.

"You're so strong…Want to come to my place?"

Stupidly, I ask, "and do what, exactly?"

"Oh my god you're so perfect." She kisses me again, lightly. "Okay I'll leave first and distract them so you can go out and my car is parked around the corner. It's this bitching red corvette."

She's gone so quickly that once again I'm asking, "Wait. Wait what?!"

I splash some water on my face, then head out, trying to keep my head down to avoid being noticed. It fails. Someone jeers and people laugh. I hurry out. I don't look at them. I don't want to see if Samantha is laughing with them.

Her car really is a red corvette. It's gorgeous, actually, and instead of walking past like I was planning I stop in front of it. She's never done anything personally to me, but I'm still worried this is some kind of game. She's setting me up for all her friends to jump out of the closet and take pictures. It's not a kind thought and isn't really fair, but I got burned before.

"Sorry!" Sam runs up a moment later and practically pushes me into her car. "God they're so annoying. I'm so not in the mood to have the quarterback cop a feel."

The engine starts with a purr that matches her voice. "I'd rather it was you."

I jerk back against the seat and stare straight ahead as she proves to be the absolutely worst driver I've ever seen. It's better than focusing on her flirting. I can't survive her flirting, but I keep staring at her.

Her house is painfully large, and she parks in a garage with cars more expensive than Roth's house. She grabs my hand and pulls me upstairs. Her room is gigantic too, filled with loud colors and a lot of photoprints. There's an expensive looking camera on her desk, and I inspect it, before looking at some of the prints. They're amazing, with perfect angles and just the right kind of lighting. "...You took these?"

"Yeah, you like?"

"They're amazing." I turn. Samantha has tugged her uniform off and is just standing there in her undergarments. Trying to not hyperventilate, I point out, "I..uh..Samantha you're in your knickers."

_Oh, good one Lara, way to be observant._

"Sam." She winks at me, before pulling on some jeans and a blouse. I start to breath normally again.

"Sam. Right. Then. So you're going into photography?"

"And film, too." She leans against me and it feels so natural that I let it happen.

"You're really good."

"Thanks...What about you? What plans do you have?" Her hand is on my arse and it's making it really hard to concentrate.

I turn to look at her, and start to get lost in her eyes. "Archaeology." Her lips are close again and I hesitate before sneaking a kiss. She starts to guide me away from her desk and we tip onto her bed. She wraps herself around me.

"Mm. That explains that book," she keeps trying to talk between kissing and it's frankly adorable. "That you were reading? You're always reading books like that. I made a list…"

"You..what?" I stop snogging her and prop myself up on my elbows to look down at Sam.

"I've … really liked you for a long time, Lara." She's suddenly so shy and vulnerable that my insides tighten. "I just didn't know how to approach you. Or if you were even interested in girls."

"Are you even real?" I ask her again, and she laughs.

"Well I didn't want to assume based on rumors, you know. But then I caught you looking at Ms. Thompson's ass."

To be fair, my history teacher has an amazing arse, but I can't believe she saw that. "You little stalker, you. What about your friends?"

"They're _not_ my friends. They're little sharks that always circle me waiting for there to be blood in the water."

"Dating me is going to make you hemmorage," I tell her, worriedly.

"Are you asking me out, Lara Croft? Because I can handle it. We're going to be awesome together, maybe I'll even be your official dig site photographer!"

"Maybe...maybe I am," I reply. Even if she's getting ahead of herself it's really cute.

She grins against my lips, and then we don't talk again for a long time.


End file.
